


What Dreams May Come

by mirawonderfulstar



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24535138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirawonderfulstar/pseuds/mirawonderfulstar
Summary: Sam has a dream.
Relationships: Sam Beckett/Al Calavicci
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	What Dreams May Come

**Author's Note:**

> Been having a hell of a time trying to sleep lately so here, have this which I wrote on my phone.

It started out innocent enough. Just some light touching. Just fingers ghosting over his skin (Sam’s own skin, and not somebody else’s, and it was then he should have realized it was fantasy; being back in his own body, being touched by somebody who was touching  _ him _ ). The gentle brush of skin on skin, fingertips drifting up his legs, caressing over his thighs. Hands resting on his hips momentarily before stroking up his sides, petting his chest. Sam gave a shuddering sigh and heard a chuckle as one of the hands tweaked a nipple.

The gasp Sam let out in response was swallowed up by a hot mouth on his, kissing him breathless, and Sam let himself relax into it. This was a dream, surely, because someone was murmuring his name against his lips and someone was pulling him close and someone had threaded their fingers through his hair to hold him in place while they kissed him, deep, dizzying kisses that made him, strangely, ache with homesickness. 

Falling back onto the bed felt utterly right in the way that only dreams can feel, and Sam’s cock twitched as his legs were spread. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever made love like this before, been prepared like this, fingers slick with lube stroking him open, and all the while his name, over and over, praise and love and encouragement in a voice he couldn’t quite place but which warmed every part of him as a cock filled him, his vision going hazy with pleasure.

And suddenly Sam was awake again. It was 1973, he was in Tallahassee in the body of a man named Edwards, and he was lying in bed with his cock hard and Al’s face in his mind. For it had been Al in the dream, Al’s hands, Al’s voice, Al’s cock. Al, wanting to make him come. Al, _wanting him_.

The small sliver of light through the curtains of Edwards’s bedroom cast the room in shades of deep, dark blue as Sam took himself in hand. He threw his head back, eyelids fluttering, mouth working silently as he jerked himself to completion. The small beam on the ceiling seemed to wink at him in the darkness, wavering as his climax brought tears to his eyes. Al. He wanted— he  _ needed _ Al. Needed to go home to Al. To be held in strong arms and not let go again.  


Why had he left? What had happened? Should he bring it up the next time his friend returned through the imaging chamber?

_ Could _ he?

Closing his eyes, feeling his heartrate even out and slow, Sam wondered at himself. Wondered at what kind of man he was, and what kind of man he wanted to be, and if there was some sort of gap he ought to bridge between the two. Whether the dream had been a memory of sorts or merely a premonition, his subconscious mind telling him something he needed to be reminded of or merely something he’d been ignoring growing within him.

He didn’t want to risk it, bringing it up. In case it was new. In case the old Sam, before the leaps, hadn’t. All of a sudden he didn’t think he could stand it, if he hadn’t.

With a final soft sigh, Sam turned on the light on Edwards’s bedside table and staggered to the bathroom to clean himself up. 


End file.
